


Barcelona

by Artemiseire



Series: Cowboy, Peril, and the Chop Shop Girl [3]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Jealousy, Miscommunication, Mission Fic, Misunderstandings, Short Chapters, Solo is a cockblocker, honeypot mission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7576354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemiseire/pseuds/Artemiseire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after the events of the mission in Milan, the team moves on to Barcelona to investigate a greedy oil tycoon who aims to join a secret organization bent on starting WWIII. </p><p>Also, Illya is a protective boyfriend with communication issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly gives the team the rundown of their mission in Barcelona. Illya has some concerns.

After so many months of being around him, Gaby had realized there were three very distinct personalities within the overall persona that was Illya Kuryakin.

First, there was the personality most people saw: Agent Kuryakin. This KGB agent was ruthless and mechanical, determined to a fault to do whatever was necessary to get the job done. Prone to violent outbursts, Agent Kuryakin was a terrifying presence capable of inhuman strength and speed. This was the version of Illya Gaby had first met, when he tore the trunk off of her car. She still saw this version regularly with U.N.C.L.E. missions; it was this version of Illya that got shit done, the version Waverly needed.

Then, there was the personality most reserved for dealing with Solo: The Red Peril. This version was confident, headstrong, and prone to showboating. Tossing deadpan sass back and forth between himself and Cowboy, this version of Illya was more likely to make mistakes, trying to “out spy” the American.

Lastly, there was the personality Gaby loved most. This was the real Illya, the soft, beaten, vulnerable man who would do anything for the people he loved. He was tender, with gentle eyes and a quiet tone. He was reassuring, but scared of making mistakes. Very few people truly saw this version of him, even though he used it to help build his unassuming roles for infiltration, such as an architect or fashion designer. But even in those cases, Agent Kuryakin would come through. The only person that saw the real Illya was Gaby. He wouldn’t dare let down his guard enough to show any other living soul his raw core. It was an honor to see this side of him, every time. Even after months of being together, it still caught her off guard to see the effect she had on him.

Her favorite thing, her guilty pleasure, was waking up beside him, with the early morning sunlight creeping in over them. Invariably he would smile at her as he said his good mornings, giving her a look that said all was right in the world. In all the chaos of being an agent of U.N.C.L.E. this regular moment of tenderness every day helped ground her.

That morning was no different. Curled up together in the middle of Barcelona, Gaby woke slowly to the sound of Illya’s steady breathing. The morning was cold, even under all the plush blankets and the general warmth of the hotel, and Gaby snuggled closer to her large Russian for warmth. This got his attention, and he looked down at her with the same tender expression he did every morning.

He woke early, and always had. But recently, with the addition of Gaby into his bed, he remained under the covers, trying not to wake the little woman beside him. She wondered just how long he had been awake this time. Sometimes he woke in the wee hours of the night from a nightmare, sweating and shaking with fear, and he would stay awake the rest of the night. Somehow, Gaby would sleep through most of these episodes. That day, however, he didn’t have any of the signs of a rough night, his face was clear and soft, his hair tousled but not slicked with old sweat. His fingers were warm, his touch mindful of the rough callouses as he stroked her cheek and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

“Good morning.” His first words of the day were always thick with his accent, more so than usual.

“Morning,” she replied, sleep still scratching at her throat.

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, shifting to do so, but Gaby apprehended him to kiss on the lips. She could feel his smile pull against her own lips as his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. Shifting her weight, Gaby moved to straddle his lap in attempt to get closer.

 _The perfect wake up_ , she thought as she deepened their kiss, drinking in the taste of her man.

But all good things come to an end eventually, and more often than not the end of a tender moment between Gaby and Illya was abruptly halted by the presence of their mutual partner, Napoleon Solo.

“Sorry to interrupt what appears to be a very good morning….”

Illya let his head fall back to the headboard, groaning up at the ceiling when Solo sauntered into their room. “Go away Cowboy.”

Gaby turned to give Solo a little scowl, but she knew he was there to call them up to begin their mission. She and Illya would have to wait until afterwards; the mission always took priority.

Solo ignored both of them, nursing a cup of coffee as he made his way to the window, pulling the curtains open to look over the skyline of Barcelona. Illya hissed at the sudden light, covering his eyes. Gaby blinked until her own vision adjusted, watching Solo patiently.

“We have our orders from Waverly, he’s set up a meeting for breakfast in some little bistro in town. You’d best get up and ready, the room is reserved for 8 o’clock sharp.” He turned back to them and grinned infuriatingly.

“Why didn’t Waverly call and tell us himself?” Gaby shifted off of the bed to start getting ready, not concerning herself with picking the outfit with both Solo and Illya there to chastise her choices.

Solo hummed in such a way that made Gaby’s face burn. “He figured the two of you were…occupied, and didn’t need to be interrupted.”

“So he sent you to interrupt,” Illya grumbled, hand still over his face.

“Someone had to,” Solo grinned. “Otherwise you would never leave this room and I would have to stop the devious Mr. Capello all by myself.”

 

 

\--

 

 

Gabriel Capello was their target, as Waverly would soon explain over their breakfast in the small private room of the bistro. He was the most prominent oil tycoon in the Iberian Peninsula. Though he primarily worked out of Madrid, he often came to Barcelona in the winter, celebrating the holidays with his family.

This year, however, he wasn’t just in Barcelona for personal reasons, he was planning on selling out to a budding organization trying to fire up World War III. Capello had worked with the Vinceguerras, although very distantly, and he agreed with their lust for war. Believing it would be advantageous for his business, he was well prepared to make an alliance with anyone who shared his ideals.

U.N.C.L.E., of course, was brought in to put a stop to that plan.

The plan was to coax Capello into giving up information, ratting out the organization he was preparing to team up with. Then, they would interfere however they could, once they had all the details.

“You have permission to kill him, if necessary,” Waverly advised over his morning cup of tea. “But of course, I would like to keep this as simple and clean as possible. Less paperwork and all that.”

Gaby nodded, as did Solo. However, the latter tossed a glance at Illya, who did not respond. Gaby knew he was already resigned to the worst. Bad men needed to die, more often than not.

“We do have a backup, for the company’s sake. We can’t just have one of the major oil companies in Europe go down overnight.” Waverly continued, “His son, Jordi, openly opposes his father’s ideals. It would be quite simple to just have him take over as the heir to the company. Whether his father is dead or jailed at the conclusion of the mission, Jordi Capello should be our best bet for keeping the economy stable.”

“So why not just go in and do away with the father, nice and simple?” Solo leaned back in his chair, draping an arm over the empty seat beside him.

“Well, that would certainly solve the immediate problem, Mr. Solo. However-“

“If we just clean up this mess and move on, the organization he’s working with will just find someone else,” Gaby supplied, cutting Waverly off.

Waverly nodded at Gaby, gesturing in her direction. “Exactly that, and we will lose out on any information Mr. Capello can give us about this elusive new organization. If we simply kill him off we lose out on a wealth of information that his son does not have access to.”

“So what’s the plan?” Illya had his hands folded across his chest, watching Waverly quietly and intently.

“Well, you and Mr. Solo will be a couple of business partners, looking to strike a deal with Mr. Capello. Get on his good side, Get him to talk about what he’s been up to. Talk to his son and make sure he’s fit to take over when all is said and done. That sort of thing.”

“And Gaby?” Illya’s brow knit together. Gaby knew why he was concerned. Typically she was partnered with one of the boys, a bit of arm candy to help them with their cover. It was odd that Solo and Illya were together and Gaby was the odd one out.

“Don’t worry, we have something very important planned for Ms. Teller,” Waverly grinned at her, nodding. “She’s an apt agent on her own, and some of my peers have wondered why we are not using her to her full capabilities. So, this mission is a honeypot. Gaby will be working alone to seduce Mr. Capello, get him by himself and catch him bragging. His son is reported saying that Mr. Capello does have a particularly bad habit of telling his mistresses vital business information in an attempt to impress them, dazzle them. He doesn’t expect them to know what he’s talking about. So, we have our little Gaby here play the part of the innocent secretary, his favorite.”

Silence hung over the table as they processed this. Gaby couldn’t help but look forward to working alone again, especially in a situation where she wasn’t lying to her friends or using them to complete her own mission. However…

“How far does this seduction go?” Gaby could feel Illya’s foot tapping on the floor beside her, though he was restraining himself quite well.

“Ah,” Waverly fidgeted, adjusting his glasses. “As far as it needs to, to get the information.”

Gaby paused. “Wait. You want me to flat out use my body for this mission?”

Waverly nodded, unashamed. “That is…a bit colloquial, but yes.”

The tapping under the table intensified, Gaby could feel the vibrations shake up her leg. “And if she doesn’t want to?”

“I’ll be fine, Illya,” she murmured, laying a hand over Illya’s. He barely eased.

“Don’t worry about little Gabs, Peril,” Solo sighed, stretching like a cat in his seat. “Honeypots are remarkably simple, especially when it’s a woman seducing a lecherous older man. Show a little skin, bash your lashes, smile…and he’s yours. There’s plenty of ways to get through a mission like this without going too far.”

Illya sighed, turning to get confirmation from Gaby. Their eyes met, and she could see Agent Kuryakin ease off. She smiled at her protective lover, knowing he was just concerned with her safety. But she could handle herself.

“Fine,” Illya mumbled, turning away resentfully.

“Excellent,” Waverly nodded. Gaby kept an eye on Illya as Waverly continued to explain their covers and the mission. Illya never looked up from his plate.


	2. The First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaby meets their target, and comes to an unfortunate realization.

The next few days saw the trio moving into their official apartments for the duration of the mission. They didn’t expect it to take too long, however, their covers all required permanent addresses.

Gaby’s new name was Maria Glaus, a hopeful new secretary for Capello’s use while staying in the Barcelona area. Together, Illya and Solo put together a suitable wardrobe for such a woman, and although she had little sense for the stuff, she used the clothes they supplied her with to create her persona.

She was thankful that she made Ms. Glaus a bit of a nervous personality on her first day. It had been quite some time since she worked alone. Of course, she could see Illya and Solo on occasion, working together. But she could never make contact with them. Meetings to discuss any findings and new developments were top secret and had to be perfectly orchestrated.

So, on this first day, Ms. Glaus walked into the massive building with its ancient parapets and columns, wide eyed and trembling. She was in control of the situation and her own fear, and she knew her boys would be listening close by.

But she was, in the end, alone for the majority of the mission. The weight of that fact pulled down on her, threatening to swallow her up in the marble floor of Capello’s building. She had been uneasy since Waverly gave them their assignments. Something about it nagged at her. Regardless of her attempts to shrug it off as anxiety about working alone again, it remained. A seed of doubt that tainted her every thought.

Thankfully, this feeling of hers was nameless. Though she couldn’t tell why she was so agitated – and consequently couldn’t confront the cause and end it, it was small enough to be ignored as white noise. She had a job to do, after all. The part of Ms. Glaus may not require confidence, but it did require focus if she had any hope of cracking through to Capello.

Mr. Gabriel Capello was the kind of man that wore his entire personality on his face. He was cold and calculating but slimy and slick all at once. He looked every bit the perfect businessman, his suit was sleek and perfectly tailored, his hair was coiffed just so, even the silver hairs in his black mustache seemed to be perfectly placed for symmetry. Yet in every feature, there was an unshakeable air of contempt and arrogance that turned Gaby’s stomach.

He was drawn to her immediately, which took Gaby by surprise. She had expected him to ease into working with her, a disinterested glance as they were introduced, an offhand comment as he got back to work and piled files on her desk.

But no, as Capello’s assistant led Gaby towards the man himself, she felt his beady eyes roving over her. She slapped on a smile, innocent and sweet, as she shook his hand, nodding when the assistant gave her name.

Capello met her gaze and pulled her hand up to his face. She felt the prick of his mustache before she felt the soft pressure of his lips against her fingers. He never broke eye contact, not even to blink. “Miss Glaus, was it? What a lovely name.” With a languid grace he straightened his back, not releasing her hand. “It isn’t often I have foreigners in my offices.” The curl of his mouth deepened the lower his eyes sank down the front of her dress. “I look forward to working with you.” He turned his head without moving his eyes, addressing the assistant. “Have you given her the tour?” The assistant made a valiant attempt to answer him in the split second he was given, but Capello had no intention of listening. “Come, Miss Glaus. Allow me to show you around.”

Like a snake his hand slithered up her arm, pulling her close as he walked away from his befuddled assistant, leading her through the grinding gears of his perfect machine. As they walked, Gaby tried to burn the map of the building into her mind. This wasn’t vital to the mission, she knew Solo and Illya would be able to map out the place for themselves if they were making any progress with Jordi. However, it was good for her to see it for herself, and memorizing the details was an amazing way for her to distract herself from the feeling of his hot hand on her lower back and the tickle of his fingers brushing over the top of her behind.

            When Capello was satisfied Gaby was as familiar the lay of the land as he was with her backside, he led her back to his office and her desk. With one final, if lengthy, kiss to her hand and more unwavering eye contact, Capello left her. Relief eased over her as the door to his office clicked shut and she was able to bury herself into the paperwork his many assistants had given her. The mission was going beautifully already, the nagging feeling in her head was satisfied. She had a decent mental map of the building, where Capello liked to go and where he didn’t bother to tread. Moreover, she was also blessedly released from his presence for the day.

 

~*~

 

The first day of the mission was complete, they had a greater understanding of the personalities and settings they would be working with, and were now able to formulate a more solid plan of attack. Everything seemed promising, not only for Capello’s interest in Gaby. Solo had managed to rack up the charm for Jordi, discovering the heir’s weakness for tall, dark men. Solo’s seduction would be far more subtle than Gaby’s, but just as useful, if not more so. However…

“I don’t like it.”

Gaby let out a long, slow breath. Solo had abandoned her and Illya to go enjoy the nightlife. Now that the two of them were alone, her Russian was finally able to relax and open up for her.

Shifting in her seat to follow his pacing, Gaby rested her chin on her arms over the back of the chaise. “I know you don’t. But it’s what we need to do. This mission’s outcome affects the world, Illya. That’s far more important than-“

“I know!” Gaby blinked, clicking her mouth shut at his outburst. The thin line between Illya’s brows deepened as he forced himself to relax. “I know,” he repeated, far calmer than before. “It’s our job.”

Silence hung over the room, but Gaby did nothing to break it. She could see his mental turmoil behind his eyes. He wasn’t done, and she knew it before the corner of his mouth curled. “But he is a repulsing man,” he spat as he turned, thumbs rubbing white knuckles. Gaby waited through another pause. “I should never have agreed to this decision of Waverly’s. He will hurt you and-“

“I don’t need your blessing to do my job, Illya.” His head snapped back to her as her voice rose. “Or Waverly’s. He wants me to gather information. That’s all. That’s all it has to be. So far it doesn’t look like he’s going to be too hard, the man is-“

“A lecherous beast.”

Gaby ignored his interruption. “Simple. ” A thought dawned on her, the feeling akin to breaking out in a cold sweat – seeping and sudden. The nagging thought finally had a reason. “You don’t think I can do it alone. Do you.”

Silence dropped on the room. Gaby could hear nothing but the electric buzz of the lamp, humming in agitation in the stillness between them. Illya was frozen, half-turned towards her, having stopped mid-pace. His eyes were wide with shock, the pain at her accusation jabbing her somewhere in the chest. She wanted to say something, but no words came to mind, blocked by her desire to hear his answer, to hear her suspicions squandered.

“No, Gaby – “

“No?” The word pushed out in a gust of breath from somewhere in her gut, taking all the strength out of her. His voice had been soft, the condescension she heard in it burned her ears. “You don’t think I’m capable of getting some information from a simple old man who is distracted by my very existence? You think I need you or Solo to be a decent agent?” She stood from her seat, itching to move, to run. The warm air of the room was stifling, and Illya’s stunned silence was doing everything but helping. “Did you forget I spent nearly two years working with Waverly before you two even heard of me? Or did that not count because I was withholding a secret and not actively fighting to save the world?”

Looking at the door, Gaby decided she had had quite enough of the conversation, one-sided as it was. Nobody likes talking to a slab of marble. She shot one last look at Illya, desperate for some change in emotion, so explanation, some argument even. She found nothing but a tall, pale statue of shock. His jaw twitched, and she waited for a breath for the words he was trying to say. Nothing came. What did she expect, he was a man of action, not of words. His usual response to confrontation was a fight, and he would never lay a hand on her like that. So she was forced to wait as he racked his brain to find the words to defend himself. But Gaby was very tired – of waiting, of the day, of the job, everything. “Well. Why don’t you worry about your job with Solo and Jordi, and I’ll worry about my own.” Her feet led her to the door and her hand pulled at the doorknob, working of their own volition but not against her will. “Goodnight, Illya.”

“Gaby, wait – “

The thick crack of his voice reached her a second before the door clicked shut. She stared forward at the gaudy wallpaper of the hallway, not registering anything really. Just a haze of gold and cream as her heart thrashed in her ears.

Taking a deep breath, Gaby swallowed her wounded pride and walked through the labyrinth of the building to her room, vowing to think of nothing but the mission until the job was done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops it's been a heck of a long time since chapter one.   
> I'm not dead, but I don't know when chapter 3 will be out. There is more coming, I have an outline of it all. But actually writing is tough sometimes.

**Author's Note:**

> My second mission fic for TMFU. I hope to write more in this series, let me know if you would like more! 
> 
> As usual, I should warn that I'm a terrible person and I have a tendency to edit fics after they've been posted. You've been warned. Also, I have a full-time job now that drains the life out of me, so updates may be sporadic. 
> 
> Check out my tumblr at artemis-writes.tumblr.com for updates and art. Thanks for reading!


End file.
